


stop telephoning me, i'm busy

by andyanthea



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula E RPF
Genre: Crack, Dirty Talk, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 03:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15548859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andyanthea/pseuds/andyanthea
Summary: This was not in their agreement when André called Brendon to ask for love advice. Wait, what?





	stop telephoning me, i'm busy

**Author's Note:**

> First published fic out of a whim. Title from 'Telephone' by Lady Gaga.
> 
> Also, after four years of lurking, finally the AO3 invitation e-mail finds its way to my inbox. Yay!

“I thought you’re here to talk about your love life, not my sex life.”  
“I’m done with my story. It’s your turn, Brendon.”  
“For bloody hell’s sake, mate, there’s nothing for you to look into,” Brendon sighs. Somehow the mischievous German had decided to turn the conversation to his sex life, after spending 30 minutes asking for advice for his love life with JEV. It started with the discourse that endurance drivers are good team players because they don’t mind getting dirty together---literally and sexually driven, which Brendon dreads to imagine. Not that he hasn’t had his fair share of victory threesomes, garage fucks, or late-night blowjobs out of boredom as they wait for the car to get fixed, but not something he wants to discuss right after giving something close to a marriage advice to André. 

“No, really, if you’ve got nothing more to ask, I’m closing the phone.”  
“Awww, no fun, Hartley. And I did have something else to ask. Have you fucked your new teammate?”  
Brendon groaned, not even remembering to do it off the phone. “This wasn’t in our agreement when you said you wanted a phone call.”  
André snickered. “I gave you my own story, didn't I? Now I want to hear yours, that's what friends are for.” 

Brendon realizes there’s no way out from the conversation. “Jesus, Pierre’s only 22. He’s barely past the legal age.” 

“Doesn’t mean he hasn’t been doing it illegally, right? I mean, I would too if I were in a grid surrounded by handsome, fit men,” André comments. “And don’t act so prude. You know the junior classes aren’t as hormonally constipated and bitter as Formula 1, of course they’d already do things.” 

Brendon hates the fact that images of Pierre getting debauched immediately flashes in his mind---too vivid to be simply imagination. “Yeah, but doesn’t mean-” 

“And that teammate of yours-” André purrs, oh God, Brendon can imagine him licking his lips, “-is a total _twink._ I’m surprised none of the guys there have snagged him already.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Brendon hisses. As much as he feels his head---both North and South---heating up, Brendon musters the last of his morality to deny André his kinky propositions. Especially when it comes to his young, ripe, fuckable twink of a teammate. 

Brendon silently curses André for derailing his level headedness to a special place in Hell. 

“I’m not in the mood for that, Lotterer. Now fuck off unless you prefer me to slam the phone for you.” 

André still has the nerve to giggle as if he'd just launched the prank of the century. “Alright, alright. You can just answer my question directly, you know. So, have you fucked Pierre?” 

Brendon closes his eye for a moment before shutting out the last shreds of decency gnawing at him. “You know what? You want details? I’ll give you details. Now, here’s the thing….” 

__________

Later at night, Brendon curses André again when he receives a photo of him fucking JEV, along with a message of _'your turn’._ He fumbles with his phone, because it’s hard to reach the nightstand when your much younger teammate is riding your cock so eagerly while muffling his delicious, French-accented sounds on your shoulder. Brendon hates the fact that it’s hard to take pictures in the dark, but they have to stay concealed unless they want Franz to find out and boil them in Hell for more offences than one. 

He climaxes after hearing his name being moaned in French, and swears to keep his sex life to himself from now on.


End file.
